Sing a Song of Sixpence
by Skoellya Seyth
Summary: An invitation by a Goblin is not something one can refuse or ignore; a threat is something else entirely. Facing persecution, the Goblin King emerges into the Wizarding World for the first time in centuries. What a dainty, precious thing is waiting for the King...
1. Chapter 1

**Another old one that's been kicking around a while. Enjoy. **

**Summary: An invitation by a Goblin is not something one can refuse or ignore; a threat is something else entirely. Facing persecution, the Goblin King emerges into the Wizarding World for the first time in centuries.**

* * *

**The Prologue**

* * *

_Dear Mr. Dumbledore,_

_You are cordially invited to an audience with the Chancellor of Gringotts, in Gringotts' ante-chamber this evening, at 13 o'clock._

_He wishes to discuss delicate matters of security that pertain to the safety of the realms in relation to the current Wizarding crisis. _

_It would be in all of our best interests for you to attend._

_Yours sincerely,_

_(Signed)_

_Ragnok, Head Banker of Gringotts 1907- present_

* * *

Dumbledore read the succinct note with abject surprise and peered over his half-moon glasses at the Goblin who had delivered it. "The Chancellor? I was under the impression that Gringotts was under the control of the Goblin council."

"That is what we wished Wizards to think, sir."

"Yes, yes, I suppose you would." Dumbledore sighed. He could feel the storm was gathering with an alarming speed. Looking outside of his office window, he could see the flashes of light in the distance were growing closer. The rumbles were barely audible over the howling wind and rain. "Would I be correct in assuming this has something to do with Voldemort's latest attacks?"

The Goblin nodded, a steely glint in his eye and an understanding seemed to pass between them. Dumbledore had always been one of their strongest advocates at the ministry.

"Please, follow me. There has never been more urgent a situation."

"The thirteenth hour?" Dumbledore asked, hoping to provide a solution to another of the teeming questions that this simple note had brought to mind.

"The twilight hour is the easiest to cross over."

"To cross over from where?" Dumbledore mused, but the Goblin had already disappeared through the doors.

* * *

_What a storm._ Sarah thought sitting in the window of her room at the Leaky Cauldron, staring out at the swirling grey smog. The wind rattled the windows, causing her to shiver even at her perch on the ledge, where she was wrapped in a tough woollen blanket. She was lost in reverie when she heard a voice behind her.

"Sarah?"

"Hoggle?!" She smiled widely as she looked across the room to the red rimmed mirror. She had barely blinked before he was stood looking out of the window next to her. "Hoggle? What is it?"

"You heard about Bogrot?"

"The goblin village in Somerset?" Sarah asked with a frown. She had personally never been there, but knew that was where many of the Gringotts Goblins had been born and raised.

"It's gone." Hoggle said with his head hanging low. "All of it, destroyed. Voldemort and his death eaters came at dawn when they were all sleeping and- and- they all _died, _Sarah."

"I'm so sorry Hoggle." Sarah placed her coffee on the stand by the window and leaned down to hug her friend. "I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't _…he…_ intervene?" Sarah asked when Hoggle had calmed down. From what she knew, the Goblins had fiercely fought for his majesty in the Goblin City and appeared to love him despite his faults. "Surely he would…"

"He didn't know in time, no one called him until it was too late. He saved only one." Hoggle looked at the sky. "This is his fury."

Sarah's eyes widened at the intensity of the storm. "Will he face Vol-"

"NO!" She stopped as Hoggle covered her mouth. "You know the power of names!"

"W-what? But surely only-"

"He stole a wish, Sarah." Hoggle shook his head. "We have no idea what he can do."

* * *

Dumbledore looked around the ante-chamber as the stirring of a deep and dangerous magic became apparent. None of the Goblins reacted as skittering voices and giggles were heard, and new shadows flickered across the walls. The wind outside roared into life, but as soon as the thirteenth hour chimed a deathly hush fell over the room.

"Well, well. It _has_ been a long time since I had to interfere." An imperious, mocking voice drawled. "But then I can hardly expect wizards to be competent in controlling their own population."

Dumbledore turned to face the source of the voice. It belonged to an unearthly blond man with a dark cape slung over his shoulders and folded arms. His eyes were the most penetrating of all and seemed centuries older than his appearance. Dumbledore knew immediately from long years of experience he would have to step ever more delicately. He enquired politely. "Whom is it that I addressing?"

The man inclined his head in acknowledgement, as several of the Goblins and creatures around him tittered. "I am Jareth, Master of the Labyrinth and the Goblin King. I expect you may have read myths about me." At this point he gave a fanged smirk. "I assure you most of them are true."

"The Goblin King." He murmured in amazement. The King seemed to be basking in his astonishment with undisguised pride and amusement. Dumbledore has indeed read the myths, children's stories more accurately that often held a bitter lesson to prideful mortals. He grimly recalled the prospect of wished away children, and wondered worriedly if this new breed of goblins he had seen arriving with the so called monarch were the product of the King's cruel duty. Deciding to find out more at a future date, he broke the small pause. "Why is it you wished to contact me?"

"This _Lord Voldemort_ has broken the neutrality treaty between Wizards and my people. When I was asked to sanction action, I admit I was curious that my Goblins would choose to work with you."

"I am honoured that they have done so." Dumbledore looked gratefully to Ragnok who nodded.

Jareth ignored the comment. "In your world they may do as they like, it is what they _wished _for. However I do refrain from sitting idly if areas of my realm are attacked. Bogrot was a link between my Kingdom and this world. It... irritates me that somehow these wizards were able to find it and attack at the time of day when its defence was weakest. Any Goblin would not have dared. There is a traitor somewhere in the ranks of wizards who know of it or have been shown there. If my Goblins can be made aware of whom is responsible, they are quite capable of taking care of the problem themselves." The sinister implications of that sentence did not go unnoticed. Jareth continued in a dryer, more courteous voice. "As you are no doubt aware the people have no secure place at your Ministry of Magic which is why they asked to contact you. If you were to provide this assistance, I am certain they will provide invaluable help in your war in return."

"I shall do my best to uncover the truth." Dumbledore said after a few moments. "On the condition the man will not be murdered, or harmed. We do not know the circumstances yet."

"Murdered? Certainly not. They would never be so unimaginative." Jareth smiled cruelly, his curved lips encouraging the other Goblins to match his sneer with malicious cackles. "Nonetheless, we have an agreement. They shall not be physically harmed. I am certain you also know better than to break a vow with Goblins. Tell no other of my presence, if you would be so good. I have no desire to be subject to mortal pedantry on a whim."

Dumbledore gave a sharp nod with a frown. "You could have used Ragnok to inform me of this. Why appear yourself?"

"I think you need to know the _true_ danger you should face, should Wizards cross our path again."

"You were not there in the Goblin Rebellions."

Jareth laughed nastily, along with the other, wilder, Goblins. The others simply smirked. "Things are not always what they seem."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

* * *

_One Week Earlier_

* * *

_"__Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there.__"_

* * *

Sarah read the warning with a rueful expression as her mind wondered back to her own hardships she had brought upon herself in her fit of pique. She had made it a careful point to avoid Goblin banks. She had never entered a vault at Gringotts, let alone owned, fearing drawing any attention to herself from the Goblins. She had been sending articles to the Quibbler for two years since graduating Salem, and she had been fortunate to find one of the only employers willing to pay her in muggle money. However, she still found herself standing at the steps of Gringotts, small reporter's notebook tucked safely away into her tan coat. It was an imposing building, grander than those around it, but less on the outside than what Sarah had seen of the more grand Goblin architecture in her short trip underground. It still suited his ego perfectly though, she thought with a grumble and put all the other mortal buildings to shame.

"Sarah?"

"Hello Luna, who is your friend?" Sarah smiled at the daughter of her editor brightly. Despite appearances, the small blond girl really was quite clever. A freckled red headed girl stood beside her, looking at Sarah with a critical eye.

"This is Ginny. Thanks for taking us. Daddy said you were dropping by."

"No problem. It's not the best idea for you to wander around here on your own, especially now."

"You believe Harry?"

"It's nice to meet you too." Sarah said and the red-head blushed.

"I just meant... not many people seem to think you-know-who is back, even after Cedric last year..."

"Teenagers might be attention-seeking or moody, but they wouldn't try and start a hoax like that. Not one of Luna's friends either. It's better to be cautious." Sarah said. She sighed briefly and looked back up to the bank. "Have you got your key, Luna?"

"Yes."

"Do you need to get money, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head. "I did most of my shopping with my Mum, I just forgot a book in flourish and blott's."

The interior was even more impressive and there were hundreds of goblins scurrying through the vast open space- she hadn't seen this many since the battle in Goblin City. Sarah noticed they were far more restrained than the ones she had encountered in the Underground, but supposed it was probably for the best. At any rate, she couldn't see the menaces Jareth ruled looking after a bank. It occurred to Sarah that perhaps in the human world the Goblins had to conform to stricter behaviour only to protect themselves. As far as she could tell, Jareth's Goblins ran amock because he let them.

"Name?" the clerk growled without looking up.

"Luna Lovegood. I'd like to make a withdrawal."

"Children must be accompanied by an adult."

"I'm accompanying her."

"Your name?"

"I'd prefer-"

"All visitors to the vaults are required to give their name." The Goblin said with condescension.

She scowled in response and met glare with glare. "Sarah."

The Goblin, Luna and Ginny all seemed a little surprised by Sarah's ferocity that matched the clerk's. The Goblin's crinkle brow lowered. "Surname?"

Sarah pursed her dry lips briefly before answering. "Williams."

"Do you have an account Miss Williams?"

"No." Sarah affirmed a little too quickly and loudly, and the Goblin raised a brow. However, the steely nature of her gaze caused it to grumble and continue shuffling through the papers on his desk.

"Grimknarl will escort you."

"Thank you." Suddenly the atmosphere lightened and it seemed to Ginny as if Sarah had been going there for years with the courtesy with which the Goblins treated her. Luna simply smiled, that was why Daddy had chosen her as their ace reporter, after all.

The vaults were even more impressive- the journey there was as harrowing as it had ever been in the Labyrinth. Looking around the vast caverns from where she was clinging on for dear life in the small carriage, she saw even more architecture that felt familiar. She even thought she might have seen some hands attached to the walls. She shook her head, trying to clear her memory. The oubliette had been one of her more terrifying experiences. She breathed deeply. All that had been years ago- she'd not seen her friends in many months. She still got little messages through mirrors, though. When they'd finally emerged she'd never been happier to leave a building. The Goblins hadn't recognised her and she'd survived Goblin tunnels without being chased by cleaners. Resolving to put it out of her mind as it was a whole lot of worrying over nothing she smiled openly at the girls and headed out into the bustling alley.

* * *

"So what's this business about Voldemort that I've been hearing about?" Jareth asked the goblins.

"He has been resurrected into a new body, sire."

"Has he been interfering with Gringotts dealings?"

"We believe so, your majesty."

"Of all the stuck up-" Jareth broke off and growled in frustration. "What are the wizards doing, then?"

"They're doing nothing, sire."

"Nothing?" Jareth raised an eyebrow and the goblin nodded again. "Nothing?"

"It seems they do not believe he is back, sire."

"Why do those imbeciles not surprise me?" At that comment, all of the goblins grinned and cackled. The corner of Jareth's mouth raised into a twitch, before he shifted into his more regal persona. "Send a message to the minister for magic. Unless they are to recognise the persecution of goblins and their businesses, Gringotts will no longer be banking for the ministry. Give them notice on their accounts and tell them to find another treasury."

The goblin, Griphook, frowned. "Sire..."

"You are welcome to return to the underground until the situation resolves itself. I see no reasons for goblins to get involved with this folly."

"Sire..."

"You wish to?"

"We'd like permission to aid the Harry Potter child, your Highness." An elderly goblin croaked.

"Oh, really?" Jareth had been informed of the boy, but hadn't been interested in an infant who had in all truth done nothing. He had been aware of the nature of the magic which had saved the child- his speciality in dealing with the family of wished away children had seen both the truly desperate, loving, kind of mothers and the most despicable. He had respected Lily Potter for true courage and so preferred to be indifferent towards the fortunate son. Apparently though, his goblins had found the grown boy to be worthy of respect, too. And he knew his subjects well enough to know it was not easily given to mortals. "Of what benefit would it be to me?"

"He is of noble character and is destined to rid the world of the Dark Lord, once and for all."

"Ah, destined." Jareth leaned forward in his chair. "You should know such things are subjective."

The goblin said nothing in response, recognising Jareth was deliberating his true answer. At last, he yawned and stretched out lazily. "Do as you desire. Don't expect me to sort out any of your mess, but I'd still like to have a bank after all this. You will however inform me if –when- Gringotts is approached by Lord Voldemort directly immediately."

"Yes, sire." The goblin appeared hesitant and Jareth held out a hand for him to continue. He would not be reprimanded for speaking out of turn. "...Will you be returning below ground?"

"I think it's been a long time since I've stretched my wings above." Jareth's face became unreadable. "I have some business to attend to."

Far above Diagon Alley, a white owl soared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Sarah had no idea how close the call was. If she'd turned right, instead of left, a barn owl swooping overhead towards The Leaky Cauldron may have collided with a frightened pigeon as it was distracted by the girl with the dark, flowing hair. Said girl may have dropped all the books she was holding on a nearby woman's foot and knocked loose the monster book of monsters and- It was just as well for the Goblin King's dignity that they passed within ten paces of each other, yet had no conscious awareness of the other so close. In the long run, it may have been better for Sarah. However, she did turn left… and they would find one another a different way.

As the trio of girls wondered the streets of Diagon Alley for the school shopping, Sarah busied herself finding amusing trinkets she might buy for her parents and Toby as gifts. The British community of wizards was so much more concentrated here in London, though she had visited New York and Washington DC. She enjoyed seeing the freedom of dress and the animated displays and charms. Even though she had attended the academy from the age of eleven, and could boast to having seen more kinds of magic than most, the simplest spells attracted her attention more. She sighed happily and pointed out to Ginny a new set of robes she might like. The embarrassed girl said she wouldn't be able afford them, but Sarah nudged her and whispered Luna had told her it was her birthday soon. She decided then and there it was worth any discomfort in the bank today to see the grin on the girl's face. She bought a scarf for Luna as well, as a thank you for her invitation.

"Oh, don't worry, what you write will be worth it. Daddy's looking forward to your story so much." Luna assured her brightly.

Sarah smiled wanly. "So, no pressure then."

"What are you writing about?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"A bit of this and that." Sarah teased.

"I won't tell anyone, please!"

"I'm investigating someone." Sarah smiled with Luna at Ginny's impressed look. "Someone not very nice. I can't tell you any more than that, I'm afraid."

"Why?"

"I don't think your parents would appreciate it." Sarah held up her hand. "Even your Dad, Luna, warned me not to talk to you about this one."

"Are you finally going after the Ministry's snorkack slave service?" Luna asked, genuinely. Ginny glanced at her friend, but shook her head fondly. If only Hermione could see that despite the lack of the conventional in Luna, both of their hearts were cut from the same cloth.

"…No. Sorry Luna." Sarah said no more. Part of the reason she enjoyed working for the Quibbler was because many of the strange creatures the Lovegoods and their readership believed in were in fact residents that originated from the Underground. Looking back to the issues from her younger years, she was glad that no one could figure out the large number of sightings in the US in her youth followed her across the country. The crumpled horn snorkacks, in fact, were nasty little goblin cousins who herded worse than cats.

When she reached the Leaky Cauldron again she was carrying several bound volumes on Wizarding Lore and charms. She sent the girls home by floo powder and settled into her favourite corner of one of the smaller pub rooms to write. She had two more weeks for this assignment, not out of Xenophilius' desire for a deadline but Toby's nativity play. Though the eight year old felt he was too "grown up" to need his sister there, she had promised. Sarah Williams never went back on her word, not when it came to her little brother. Not ever.

Putting Toby out of her mind for the moment, she sighed. She didn't have nearly as much information as she ought, despite her excellent contacts. She'd have to do the research herself and there was still plenty of time in the week. Whatever anyone thought of the Quibbler, Xenophilius didn't accept an article that wasn't verified in triplicate. What those verifications were wouldn't necessarily be considered bona-fide by certain "distinguished" institutions but it was the principle of the matter. Something which the breed she was going after sometimes sorely lacked.

_Politicians._

* * *

Goblins were not, in general, gossips. This was a neurosis developed from living in the Underground, because the only person who was remotely interesting to gossip about was the King. The King did not take well to people talking behind his back. In recent years one particular topic (or champion), however, was taboo more than any other. In the natural order of things, this of course meant it _was _known better than any other. King-baiting was a highly dangerous but fascinating game to the underground Goblins and a spectator sport for the bankers, with occasionally gold changing hands. Gringotts Goblins were more intelligent for the most part and therefore had a sense of self-preservation. They were nothing if not professional. The difference had served to give Sarah a false sense of security about Gringotts when she visited with the two girls. She had no idea about her real _infamy. _

"You saw _who?"_

"I'm telling you it was _The Lady!_ She said her name was _Sarah Williams_."

"Did you see her?" Ragnok turned his aged head to the younger.

"Yes, but how would I know? I've never even seen a portrait."

"Does she have one?"

"No, but the Fieries always said she was pretty for a human." Skrall waved a hand. "I've a cousin. He saw her, said she was fun to tease until she started kicking his head."

"Don't be preposterous, no one gets past the _Fieries_."

"Well she won. She must have."

"It's easy enough to avoid them." The taller goblin declared. "It was all luck."

"But what do we _do_?"

"Surely his majesty will know anyway."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"_You _want to tell him?"

"Maybe we can send him a message?"

"What, by owl? You know how he feels about Wizarding post."

"Even though he started it."

"By accident." Skrall, the taller one, admitted. Cragtooth laughed, showing his teeth. When the King had accidentally got caught aboveground with Goblins he'd switched to owl form and the Goblins had explained him away as a messenger. It was a court story that everybody knew, but nobody admitted to knowing to save themselves from the bog for offending the King's dignity. This also extended to the Goblins who had never even _met _the king. His reputation spoke for itself.

"Enough!" Ragnok ordered. The two younger bowed their head in silence, abashed. "What matters now is the course of action we must take."

"We've already messaged him for the third time this year." Cragtooth paled at the thought of sending another messenger. "And not yet a day since the last. Griphook has not yet returned."

"But the Lady Sarah here in London… I'd never…" The elderly head Goblin leant back away from his desk, rubbing a hand under his chin.

"Is it safe for her?" Cragtooth looked at him in worry. "_You know who _is back. If they ever found out about_-_"

"They won't. Wizards have no idea. Even the Lady Sarah herself-"

"Does he even _want_ her safe?"

"Who knows? We'll die more if he doesn't know and something happens and we don't tell him." Ragnok looked at the other two Goblins meaningfully and they stopped bickering once more.

"Shortest tooth goes." Skrall challenged with the Goblin equivalent of "pulling the short straw" and they both reached into their mouths to pull out a loose tooth. Skrall's was sharklike and white, whilst Cragtooth's yellow molar was no match.

"Underground blood!" Cragtooth cursed whilst Skrall smirked. "If I get bogged-"

"You can go to Bogrot with everyone else."

"Thanks." Cragtooth muttered. He looked with trepidation at the entrance to the vaults which, unknown to most wizards, had a secure link to the underground. It was not a safe or easy journey by any means and it would take several hours, or even days, to reach the castle. It all depended on how the Labyrinth was feeling. "How angry will he be?"

"It's been five or six years." Skrall shrugged.

"That is not reassuring."

* * *

Jareth surveyed the above world with scorn. Whatever he may have told his Goblins, he was concerned. Concerned with the folly of mortals, most especially. He understood powerful magic, revelled in it, but he did not underestimate it. A tiny mortal girl had overpowered him, through those six little words. His Labyrinth and subjects had been of little comfort at the time when he returned the girl to the mortal realm. Now the mortal realm threatened to go to war once again. And his idiot, foolhardy subjects wanted to help. Ever since his defeat Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus had been unbearable. He watched them through crystals as they apologized to his Goblins, helping to rebuild the city, but saying they had just _had to _help the lady. Now he had a bunch of do-gooding Goblins on his hands. How in the name of all the underground had that managed to happen under his watch? He much preferred his subjects keep their pointy noses away from mortals. After all, the original population were descended from mortals abandoned by their own kind. They owed them nothing. Nothing at all.

It was with these thoughts in mind he flew the skies above London. His natural ability to shape shift allowed him to transform into many things at will, if he concentrated hard enough, but he had long favoured the feeling of flight for centuries. The owl form above all else also suited his predatory tendencies and allowed him to pass through both the muggle and wizarding world without more than the barest curious glance of a person who appreciated wildlife. Especially as he would never deign himself to become some inept mortal's messenger pigeon. During the years of wizarding conflict, however, he could admit in spite of his abhorrence it provided another useful function as a spying visage. It came in use now as he settled in the rafters of the Leaky Cauldron and caught snippets of conversation.

"_Poor old Barty Crouch... I never would have thought that this time last year..."_

"_Chudley Cannons bottom of the League again. Must be a record. Who would support them?"_

"_Hey, can I swap Dumbledore for Merlin?"_

"_You must be joking, do you have any idea how long it took me to find this card?"_

"_Arrested-?_ Potter arrested!" Finally, there was something less mundane. "Always knew he was no good..."

"-claimed Dementors attacked him." Jareth ruffled his feathers at this and moved so he could listen more intently.

"Ridiculous."

"I wouldn't say so. Have you ever met one?"

"No."

"I have." The man shuddered. "Wouldn't say it would be likely anyone could keep 'em under control."

Jareth privately agreed. He'd encountered such manifestations in the Labyrinth- they had proved useful in draining hope from their victims. He'd expelled them from his Kingdom once he'd discovered their feeding habits on his population, however. Whilst not completely bothered by the mortals being endangered, he did have a duty to protect his subjects and honour his bargains. No one could accuse him of not being a man of his word, although bending an agreement to suit him was most definitely not below him. The world was not a fair place.

The other wizard looked perturbed at being corrected. "But still, how can anyone believe what that boy says?"

"I didn't vote for Fudge. I used to be a ministry official, you know." The man drawled. "I got fired after Black broke out two years ago."

"But this is impossible. How can a kid know anything about this?"

"He was nearly killed by Dementors when Black was at large in this country. I think he knows very well what one looks like."

_Well, well. This was very interesting._ Jareth knew his Goblins had ways of finding out Ministry secrets. After all, many of them had been granted magic directly from the Labyrinth.

"He was nearly _killed?_"

"You heard that Black was at Hogwarts?"

"Of course." The other replied, quickly.

"He nearly got his hands on Potter and the Dementors- instead of taking in Black fed on everyone, everything in sight. I protested to Fudge at their continued use in Azkaban and-" The man shrugged, the _see where I ended up _implied in the way he gestured with his whisky.

"Is Fudge really so bad?"

"Worse." His friend replied, turning solely to his drink and leaving a man and an owl to their churning thoughts.


End file.
